Is There Life Out There?
by HaiCas
Summary: What happens one night when Sam's hallucinations get the best of him and not even Dean can save him? *One Shot*


**A/N: This is my original writing, however the plot is not entirely my idea. The basis from this story comes from my good friend turtle76. So go check her out!**

Sam Winchester sat cross-legged in the dark on a lumpy motel mattress.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He muttered to himself, careful not to wake his brother who was passed out on the bed parallel to his.

"C'Mon Sam! I'm bored. Entertain me!" Lucifer enticed.

Sam let out a high-pitched groan as he clawed at his already injured hand.

"Sam," Lucifer bluntly stated, "You let me in. I'm not going anywhere."

"Please?!" Sam pleaded with the open air.

"No," the hallucination politely responded.

Sam clamped his hands over his ears and buried his face in the sheet. It didn't help to block out the ever persistent Devil.

He felt a sharp poke on his side and looked up to see Satan at his side with razor-sharp nails digging into his flesh. Sam yelped like a hurt puppy and scrambled off the bed and away from the supposed danger. He looked down at his stomach to see hundreds of little bugs crawling on and around him. He froze, paralyzed with terror. He began violently slapping at all the imaginary insects.

When Sam looked up again all the bugs had vanished and Lucifer had crouched down to whisper seductively in Sam's ear,

"Heya Sammy. Wanna play?"

Again Sam Winchester howled in horror. He dived for the bed and lifted a pillow, revealing his loaded handgun. When Sam grabbed the gun and looked up the hallucination was hovering over his some-how-still-managing-to-sleep older brother. Sam detected a threat towards Dean and screamed,

"No!"

And quickly discharged the weapon twice before Lucifer disappeared.

Sam was balancing on his knees, still holding the gun in the firing position when Dean shot to life.

"What the Hell is going on?" Dean yelled, and got his answer as his eyes took in the sight of his younger brother.

Sam's face was clouded with confusion, anger, fear, and exhaustion. Dean knew what was happening.

Screaming could be heard somewhere in the distance.

"Sammy, put down the gun," Dean sharply suggested.

But Sam just looked at his brother, not taking in any of what Dean had just said. His attention shifted fast as Lucifer appeared once again at Dean's side, and ultimately morphing into an exact replica of the elder Winchester. Sam pointed the gun back and forth between the two Deans, not knowing which was real.

"Woah! Sam! Put down the gun before someone gets hurt!''

"I can't- I don't- which one?" Sam couldn't process what was happening, couldn't tell the difference between reality and the crazy crap floating around in his head.

That didn't last too long as Lucifer obviously got bored and shaped back into himself. As another gun shot rang out Satan disappeared and Dean hit the floor, not dead, but a gushing hole in his leg.

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean growled.

More screams were emerging from the surrounding rooms.

Lucifer appeared at Sam's side once more and whispered,

"Wanna point that gun at someone useful? Try your face."

When Dean finally managed to pull himself up on his bed his attention turned to his brother's pale face and shaking hand, turning the gun on himself.

Forgetting the searing pain and gushing blood Dean leapt across the bed screaming,

"Sammy! No!"

He grabbed his brother around the waist, tackling him, and pinning him to the bed. But Dean was too late, and he had known that from the beginning.

Dean Winchester laid next to his lifeless brother for a while; disregarding the blood, smell, distant screaming, and the wail of sirens in the distance. He lay there not even bothering to think about life without the brother he had sworn to protect.

He placed a quick call to his adoptive father and got an answering machine. Normally Dean wouldn't have left a message, but tonight he would.

"Hey Bobby," Dean's voice shook and he continued slowly, "Sammy and I tried our best," he let out a sob and it took him a few moments to collect himself before finishing , "I guess we just weren't enough. Goodbye, Dad."

Dean left the message at that, hoping to convey the sense of thankfulness that he had for Bobby in just that one word, "Dad", and hung up.

He pried the gun from Sam's cool, lifeless hands and turned it on himself.

Later that week when Bobby checked his messages he dropped his newly opened beer and ignored the shattered mess as he listened to the extraordinarily rare voice of Dean on his answering machine. When the message was over he sunk into a chair and sat there, shaking, for longer than he cared to remember.

**Please let me know what y'all think of this, please? **

**Thanks for reading!**


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